


in a billion dreams that are lost and won

by citadelofswords



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Chess, Chess Metaphors, M/M, Other, charles is a romantic sap, erik has trouble with words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citadelofswords/pseuds/citadelofswords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collecton of one-shots concerning the brighter timeline. Or, a sorry excuse for lots of fluff. And corrections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in a billion dreams that are lost and won

**Author's Note:**

> Days of Future Past has ignited the flame in me, once again. I'm headcanoning and it hurts a lot (even though the majority of it is FLUFF.) 
> 
> EDIT 5/26/2016: This was meant to be a series, but the rest of the fics never got off the ground, so now it's only this. Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. Title from Sunlight by Anathema.

Charles likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors and he likes feeling the breeze against his face. It’s like the calm before the storm of winter comes and turns everything to death.

(As such, he dislikes winter.)

Xavier’s School has been open for four full semesters now. It’s almost disconcerting for him to wheel past a once abandoned room, only to find it full of laughter as Alex Summers burns the heads off of Barbie dolls, much to the delight of the little boys. At least Hank’s study is familiar, with the strains of Star Trek filtering through, although the snorts of laughter aren’t as familiar.

Charles reads on the back veranda, newspaper abandoned in his lap in favor of Hank’s newest dissertation. It’s very interesting- the concept of time travel as a serious topic is not new in the science community, but it doesn’t have much press. Hank has gotten people talking about it outside of science fiction for the first time in a long time. Charles feels proud of something that he didn’t do for the first time, and it’s a bizarre feeling.

“Hello, Charles.”

Charles drops the paper in his hand, startled. Standing in front of him, hands shoved deep into the pockets of an old leather jacket, is Erik Lensherr. Charles would smile if not for the memory of the last time they had seen each other- guns floating in midair, aimed at the President being mimicked by Raven-

Yes, it was best to not remember that.

“I didn’t hear you approach,” Charles says, and bends to retrieve the dissertation from its landing spot on the patio. “And I’m sure there’s no metal to help you float.”

“I didn’t float here,” Erik says, a hint of derision in his voice. “I walked.”

Charles shrugs. “Does it matter that much?” he asks. “You’re not wearing your helmet, either.”

Erik’s face softens- not much, but enough. “It never looked good,” he says. “I wore it because… well, I have other methods for keeping you out of my head, now.”

Charles reaches for his mind. It’s there, he can feel it, but it’s as if there’s radio static blocking him from actually hearing his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he says, suddenly, glancing at his wheelchair.

“Why are you apologizing?” Erik asks, before Charles has a chance to finish. “I should be the one apologizing, again. Not you.”

“I’m apologizing,” Charles says, voice tight. “because I can’t get up to greet you, however much I would like to.”

Erik smiles weakly in understanding. Then, he folds his huge frame to kneel in front of Charles, who pulls him into a quick embrace. It’s enough for him, for now.

“I forgave you,” he says, as Erik settles into a chair opposite a stone table. “After a time.”

“You did?” Erik sounds surprised. “I wouldn’t have thought-,”

“Neither did I,” Charles says. “I don’t forgive you for anything specifically, I’m sure of that much. But I would never deign to call you an enemy.”

“So we’re friends?”

“For as long as you’ll have it,” Charles says, and Erik’s smile is true and real, just as it was that first day he moved the satellite dish in 1962. And, just for a moment, the radio static clears and Charles can detect a hint of a memory.

He backs out the moment he realizes he’d still had a touch on Erik’s mind, but he sees a glimpse of Erik playing a game of chess against himself and he says, “Shall we play?”

Erik jerks, once. “What?”

“Your methods are good, but they slip sometimes.” Charles feels the static slam back into place and suppresses a sigh. “I haven’t played chess in a long time. Shall we play?”

Erik nods. Charles wheels his way to the stone bench on the edge of the veranda, Erik slowly following him over to settle next to him as Charles pulls the chess set from underneath a loose stone,” That game,” he says casually. “You played against yourself?”

“Not quite,” Erik says, setting up the black pieces on his side of the board. “I was trying to predict the moves you would make if we had been playing together.”

Charles has to stop himself from swallowing air. “It’s been a long time since then?” he asks.

“Fifteen years,” Erik says. “But I think I remember the moves that I made. If I might?”

Charles leans back in his chair, tries to touch at Erik’s mind without making it obvious that that’s what he’s doing. Erik, meanwhile, watches the board for a moment, then deliberately picks up a white pawn and moves it.

What happens next is… Charles can’t describe how it feels to watch his old friend play the entire game exactly as he would have played it. It serves as a testament to how short a time it took for them to get to know each other to this level. Erik captures three of Charles’ pawns and the queen, while his predictions cause Charles’ bishop to place Erik’s king in checkmate and end the game.

“Astounding,” Charles says. “I would have made every single move. Except, there, at the very end.”

He replaces his knight on the board, in the spot it had occupied before Erik had moved it, and plays it in the opposite direction, away from the danger. Erik leans closer to play in retaliation. They move three more pieces before Charles picks up his queen, wheels closer- and kisses Erik soundly over the chessboard, piece still gripped tightly in his fist.

 _This has been a long time coming, my old friend,_ Charles thinks, as Erik loses control over his own thoughts in surprise.

 _If only you’d done it sooner,_ Erik responds, almost cheekily, before he presses closer.

Charles leans back, smiling slightly at Erik’s shocked face, and places his queen. “Checkmate,” he says.

“In all truthfulness, fuck the game,” Erik says roughly, and leans forwards again. Charles smirks against his mouth.

“I’m not staying,” Erik says, later, as he rests his shoulder against Charles’ to stargaze.

“For the best,” Charles sighs. “Hank will be kinder than most, but Alex hasn’t forgotten what you did.”

“There is nothing here,” Erik says, and Charles’ heart sinks. “I’m not… I mean to say-,”

“You don’t have to explain,” Charles says, bitterness creeping in. “I should never have expected-,”

“It’s not that I don’t-,” Erik cuts off with a frustrated sigh. “You are my point,” he says. “Between rage and serenity. Just as you told me all those long years ago. It’s you.”

Charles’ breath catches. “How long?” he asks.

“Since Cuba,” Erik admits.

 _Good enough,_ Charles thinks. Erik smiles against his shoulder, and kisses it.

“You haven’t heard from Raven?”

“No. You?”

“No. I think it’s for the best. She needs to find her own path.”

Erik nods against his shoulder. “I should go,” he says, almost regretfully. “Will you tell anyone that I was here?”

“I should tell Hank, if you plan to return,” Charles says. “At least so he doesn’t turn Beast on you.”

Erik sighs. “Must you?”

“Yes,” Charles says in some exasperation, and gives Erik another quick kiss. “Try not to kill any more presidents? For me?”

“There’s an inquiry, you know,” Erik smirks. “I might get off on all charges.” Charles rolls his eyes fondly.

“Get out of here,” Charles says, and when Erik hops over the wall and vanishes, it leaves Charles’ chest a little lighter than it had been before.

(It feels even better when, later that night, he feels a mind reaching out to his through the chaos and he can touch it back. Perhaps this winter won't be so terrible as the last.)

**Author's Note:**

> Erik's hesitation is based off my headcanon that he is aromantic. The thing about Charles being his new point between rage and serenity is a very, very old headcanon I had after First Class first came out. (The basic plot of this fic, in fact, is from a very old fic I wrote way back in 2011, based off [this brilliant art](http://loobeeinthesky.tumblr.com/post/7350218738/hello-erik-it-doesnt-hurt-me-do-you-want-to).
> 
>  [Come say hello.](http://citadelofswords.tumblr.com)


End file.
